Thursday after work, I head to the Fort Collins bike shop to pick up my brand-new mountain bike. I placed the order on Monday during my lunch break. I still haven’t made a decision about moving back home for my mom, but I’ve decided I’m going to take advantage of the time I have with Mal.

I also had a roof rack installed, and it took the guy at the bike shop less than thirty seconds to get my bike up on top of my car and securely locked in place. I don’t know what kind of sorcery or deal with the devil he had to make to be able to do that, because I’ve been struggling with lowering the arm for two minutes now. I take off my winter coat and roll up my sleeves. Fuck you, bike rack. I’m serious now.

Finally some weird synchronized twist and tug unlocks the arm, but I’m so focused on the arm that I haven’t been stabilizing the rest of the bike, which crashes onto my head. Yes, folks, I’m a world-class engineer.

“Ow, fuck!”

“Are you okay?” a stranger calls from across the parking lot. Nice to know I had witnesses.

“Yeah, thanks!” I wave back, and try to lift the bike, which is still stuck because I’ve forgotten to unclamp the back tire.

By the time I’ve finally got the bike down from the car and up the stairs, my nice work shirt is soaked with sweat and marked with black dirt and tire streaks.

“What on earth are you doing?” Ben asks when I clamber through the doorway, clumsily ramming the bike into every nearby wall. “Whoa, there.” He jogs over from his spot eating nachos in front of the TV, and gracefully takes the bike from my hands, carrying it into the living room and setting it against a bare wall. Fucker.

“I bought a bike.”

“No shit,” Ben says. “Did you buy the special possessed model that runs you over?”

“Ha ha. Very funny,” I say on my way to the kitchen for a glass of water. “Mal offered to show me some good bike trails. I thought I’d take them up on it.”

“Really?” Ben follows me in and grabs a soda from the fridge. “First a road trip, and now you’re going to go biking with Mal?”

“Sure. What’s wrong with that?” I say around a cool swallow that shouldn’t taste this good. If wrestling with the bike took that much energy, god knows what the actual trail will do to me. And I’m in great shape, damn it.

“Nothing.” Ben shrugs and heads back to his nachos and TV. “I just wouldn’t have expected the two of you to become friends, is all. You seem so different.”

“And who would you expect?” I ask, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice as I stand beside the couch and glare down at him. “Shelby? And here I thought you were the least judgy person I know.”

Ben seems taken aback, like he wasn’t expecting such a strong reaction to his comment. “No, you’re right. I was being judgy. I think it’s awesome that you’re friends with Mal.”

My hand clenches on the glass so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t slip from my hands. “Damn right. I can date whoever I want.” Wait. “I mean, I can be friends with – ah, fuck it.” Damage done. No point trying to worm out of it now.

Ben drops a nacho onto the couch, then scrambles to clean it up. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Who said anything about dating? Are you …” He stands and faces me, eyes bulging and arms flailing. “Are you dating Mal?”

“Not exactly,” I say, because even though I called the diner our first date, it really wasn’t much of one. They deserve so much more than vinyl bench seats with padding puffing out of time-worn tears and sticky linoleum floors. “But I want to.”

“Sit,” Ben orders and points to the couch.

I’m a little lightheaded. I’m not ashamed of the way I feel about Mal, but it still feels like a big deal to put out there. I plunk my ass onto the nearest cushion, set down my glass so I don’t do any permanent damage, and take a deep breath to prepare for the grand inquisition.

Ben sits next to me and opens and shuts his mouth several times before saying, “Damn, I’m not even sure what to do with this. Okay, let’s start at the beginning. When did you first start to suspect you might have a taste for the peen?”

I choke on my own spit. When I can stop coughing enough to get words out, they are “fuck you.”

“Is this Mal-specific? Are you GFM? These are important details.”

“What the hell is GFM?”

“Gay for Mal.”

“We’re done here.” I start to stand, but Ben pulls me back down by my arm.

“I’m sorry, I’ll be serious. I promise.” At my dead stare, he adds, “Really. So when did you first start to develop feelings for Mal?”

I drop my head back against the couch. I think I can determine the non-random patterns of the ceiling texture if I stare hard enough. “When we helped Zach and Craig move.”

I roll my head to the side to watch as Ben does the mental calculations. “That was before I went out with them. You liked them even then? And you didn’t say anything? Aw, my poor little Parker heart.”

“I don’t think you’re going to feel that way in a second.”

His eyes slit as he draws out his, “Why?”

“The night of your date, I had to help them get you up the stairs and to bed. You were seriously dead weight, dude.” I hesitate, but he nods for me to continue. “They were having a shit night, after everything, and I wanted to make it better.” His eyebrows raise and I know I’m in trouble. “By giving them a blow job.”

This time Ben is the one choking on nothing, and I wait anxiously for his response.

“I’m not sure whether to be pissed or impressed. Did you like it? Obviously you liked it if you want to date them now. Have you done more? Don’t answer, I can tell by the panicked look on your face that you have. Go you!”

“You’re not mad?”

“Of course not. I think it’s pretty obvious Mal and I were not meant to date. I don’t think we were even meant to hang out much. I’m not sure what it is that grates on my nerves.” My jaw tightens and Ben notices, waving his hands in surrender. “I think it’s great you guys connect. Guys in the non-gender-specific sense. They just weren’t for me. Maybe if I wasn’t trying to get in their pants …”

I don’t mean for the growl to escape, but it doesn’t deter Ben. He giggles instead. “You’ve got it bad. Does anyone else know?”

I shake my head. “I wasn’t sure how Mal would feel about that. We haven’t really talked about it.”

“Well, just a guess, but since you’re the straight guy in this relationship, they’re probably waiting on you.”

I’m not sure I qualify as straight anymore, but then, I’m not sure what I am. It’s weird. I like things orderly, in a box, neat and tidy, but when it comes to this thing with Mal, I suddenly don’t give a shit about labels. All I care about is the fact that it feels right. Ben is right, though, we do need to talk.

“When do you see them again?” Ben’s voice breaks through my thoughts.

I stand and take my phone out of my pocket. “I’m going to go find out.”

“Good luck.” Ben smacks my arm. “I’ll yell when food arrives. I was thinking subs?”

I respond with a thumbs-up before disappearing down the hall and into my bedroom for privacy.

I’ve been so caught up in my head over things with my mom and getting a bike so that I can spend time with Mal, that I haven’t even talked to them since this weekend. It is something I’m only now realizing as I pull up my texts and see the last one dated the Friday we left.

Parker: Hi Mal. It’s Parker.

They don’t keep me waiting. I’ve barely gotten my work clothes off and in the laundry basket, except for my shirt which is going to need massive amounts of stain remover first, before my phone dings with a response.

Mal: Hi Parker. It’s Mal.

They’re making fun, but I can’t be mad when I imagine the sly expression coming from that stunning face.

Parker: I was wondering if I could take you up on your mountain biking offer soon? I got a bike today.

Mal: You got a bike?

Parker: I’ve been meaning to for weeks now, and I decided after this last weekend, I don’t want to put it off.

I don’t want to put anything off anymore, but that might be a little heavy for a text.

Mal: How about Saturday?

Parker: Perfect.

Mal: I’ll swing by at 9. You can throw your bike in the back of the truck. Wear long pants if you don’t want your legs scratched to hell.

I stretch across my bed, a wonky smile aimed at my phone, until I realize I’ve just arranged for our next date to be something where Mal sweeps me off my feet. I need to plan something where I can show them what a wonderful and amazing person they are. I move to my desk and pull open a web browser. Time to start planning.